Better for the Waiting
by Darlin
Summary: Remembering prom night brings back bittersweet memories for Ororo, Logan, Betsy, Rogue and Remy and Jean. Can you ever forget your first love and what if you can't move on? Do you remember your prom night?


**Better for the Waiting – by Darlin**

 **A/N** – As I watched a stream of girls dressed like princesses walking by in early May, accompanied by dashing knights, in my new home, all of a sudden a story came to me. For better or worse. I hope you enjoy this.

* * *

"Oh, look! Don't they look so cute! Betsy, Rogue, look at those kids! Down there! Ororo and Logan, look! Oh! Remember _our_ prom?" Jean Grey said, giggling as she looked out at the stream of girls dressed in long gowns and boys wearing sharp tuxedos as they strode past the Colorado Rockies stadium.

Jean and her friends were on the penthouse patio of a loft apartment that their friend Warren Worthington III owned. It was right across from the baseball stadium, Coors Field. Jean was Warren's personal assistant and at his request she'd arranged for their tenth year high school reunion to be held there. It was a beautiful night though cool at the beginning of May and many of the young prom goers didn't have wraps. But Jean and her friends didn't seemed to notice the chill either as they watched the annual tradition below that no American city seemed to be free of.

"They look darling," Betsy Braddock said. "The girl's frocks are so adorable and the boys match brilliantly."

"That guy – look, the one in the cowboy hat – that's you, Logan!" Jean cried.

Logan Howlett was eying Ororo Munroe. It had been a long ten years since he'd last seen his prom date.

"Logan, look!" Jean insisted.

Logan briefly spared the kids below a glance. He quickly spotted the only boy in a cowboy hat, tall, thin kid in a black tux, white shirt. The sight brought back memories and made him chuckle. He'd never forgotten their prom.

"I wore a black shirt, all black," he commented.

"Really? I don't remember," Jean said.

"He did," Ororo said. She clearly remembered although she didn't look at Logan when he turned back to stare at her.

"Ororo, you'd just chucked ol' prince T'Challa," Betsy said. "We didn't realize that you didn't know about him and Monica when your folks pulled you out of school for that trip."

Ororo's father had taken a photo assignment, filming lions in Wakanda, for a few weeks and he'd taken her along since she'd already been notified that she'd been accepted to Oxford that October. She'd been eager to see what her boyfriend's country was like since she imagined they'd get married and live there eventually.

Ororo remembered feeling completely crushed when she'd come back and her best friend, Remy LeBeau, had told her T'Challa had been messing around with another girl. No one else had said anything to her and Remy hadn't even gone to the same school! He'd only found out because a girl named Bella whom his parents had wanted him to marry went to Ororo's school and she'd told him.

"You really wanted to kill him _,_ " Remy said now as he brushed a finger under Ororo's chin.

Ororo had too – _still_ wanted to.

"Get us some more champagne, Remy sugah," Remy's wife Rogue ordered.

"On it," Remy said happily and off he went.

"Scott was so cute in his white tux," Jean said.

"The only guy in all white too," Logan noted.

"We matched perfectly, my white gown and his white tux and our pink flowers. Oh, how young we were!" Jean exclaimed sadly as she glanced across the patio.

Instinctively everyone followed her gaze. Scott Summer's wife, Emma, was clinging to him as he and Warren talked – clinging to him as if she were afraid he might suddenly remember he once loved Jean and make a dash across the patio as if she knew he still longed for his prom date, his first love.

"I hope he's miserable," Jean muttered and thought, " _I hope he dreams of me every night and calls out my name every time they do it so she knows it too_!"

"Oh, my gosh y'all! Look, there's a guy in a white suit!" Rogue called out. "Oh, and he's got white shoes too! And his date – nope, wow, he's with another guy."

"Oh, he's with a _group_ of guys!" Betsy exclaimed not quite sure why guys would go to their prom in a group but she noticed there were a few girls in groups too. She wondered if they couldn't get dates. She'd had at least ten guys ask her to prom even though they knew she'd be going with Warren. She absently started counting off all the boys that had asked her. Maybe had been twelve?

"Everyone thought you and Scott would be together forever," Rogue said.

"Not me," Logan said.

Jean turned away, looking back down at the prom stragglers. "We were so naive and young," she whispered.

"Right, then. Ororo you and Logan went to prom together, I remember that," Betsy said.

Ororo's smile was forced. She nodded, avoided looking at anyone, especially Logan.

"She went to Remy's prom too," Rogue said.

"Right, that's why T wouldn't take you to ours," Betsy said.

"T'Challa was cheating on me, that's why he didn't take me," Ororo snarled. "That I'd gone to Remy's prom was just his excuse not to take me to ours."

"You an' Remy?" Logan asked, wondering if he was the only one who hadn't known this.

Ororo didn't look at Logan or acknowledge him but Rogue did.

"After prom they went to some little seedy motel, only they didn't do anything, just watched TV and slept."

Ororo tried not to smile, something Logan noticed, to his chagrin. Ororo thought how she and Remy had done plenty long before his prom. But they'd never quite gone all the way. She'd never told Rogue that and she guessed Remy hadn't told his wife about the things they'd done either. She'd had tentative, explorative fun with her first boyfriend.

"We still had a good time, _non_?" Remy said with a wink. He'd just returned with a tray of champagne flutes for the women and two bottles of ale for him and Logan and overheard his wife.

Ororo smiled now. They had had fun. He'd snagged some beer and, feeling grown up they'd imbibed freely. But neither of them had had much experience with alcohol. They'd ended up a little buzzed, falling asleep together. She'd gotten home at five in the morning and was just glad her parents never knew what time she'd snuck in. Her mother still had her prom pictures, her and Remy, her and Logan. Not much into clothes back then she'd worn the same silver dress to each prom but with different hairstyles. They were smiling in the photos because her mother had demanded that they say "cheese". Had they been excited? Remy and Logan, both so youthfully handsome and slim. She didn't look at all as if she were missing T. She'd felt comfortable and safe with Remy and with Logan too. She couldn't take that away from Logan even though now he kept staring at her so much she felt uneasy.

"I had the loveliest purple gown, silk, clung to my body like a second skin," Betsy mused.

"Whoa, Remy remember dat dress!" Remy exclaimed. Though he hadn't gone to their school he'd gone to their prom because his parents had made him take Bella. He'd just been getting over Ororo who'd fallen in love with T'Challa. Bella had been pretty and nice but she was shy and quiet and hadn't hung out with Ororo's group. She hadn't even come to the reunion. Someone said she'd died. Remy never checked her Facebook. He didn't care.

"We _all_ remember that dress," Jean said, sullenly. Scott hadn't been able to take his eyes off of Betsy. To Jean that had been the beginning of their end.

"I can still get into it too. Thought about wearing it tonight but I thought it might be too much," Betsy said although she could only get into it if she sucked in her gut even with Spanx on and there was still a slight bulge.

"I lost mine in a move," Rogue said without regret. She'd been stuff-her-bra-with-tissue-skinny when she'd gone to prom with someone she didn't want to remember. It was only on summer break from college the next year that she'd met Remy through Ororo and she still had Remy!

"I burned my dress," Jean said as she finished her drink and reached for another.

"You wore silver, Ro," Logan said to Ororo who looked at him now, surprised that he remembered.

"And you didn't give her a corsage! She was the only one there without one!" Jean roared.

"Forgot it – was that nervous," he admitted. "Didn't know what kinda flowers went with silver an' she didn't like my idea of black roses ta match me."

Remy laughed. The girls huffed at him.

"Dead roses!"

"What rubbish!"

"Didn't y'all leave right after we ate?" Rogue asked, curious.

"After a few dances," Logan said, remembering slow dancing with the girl of his dreams.

"What ya do – I mean where'd ya go?" Remy asked, as curious as his wife.

"He took me home," Ororo said.

"I wish I could go back in time. I would make Scott so sorry!" Jean murmured.

"Oh, man, we could all go back in time, jump Monica and that Emma interloper, an' you could take me to the prom, Remy, instead of that jerk Bobby!" Rogue enthused. "Now Bobby's an accountant for a law firm. I don't even know how that happened! He was always playin' around, never serious. He was all over me after takin' me home too! Mama came out an' scared him so bad he wet his pants! Ah'll never ferget that," Rogue laughed at the memory. He'd deserved it.

"I remember you told me you punched him in the chest before she came out with that sawed off shotgun!" Betsy said and laughed too. They'd both intentionally left out the part where Bobby had returned blow for blow and smacked Rogue on the back of her head before Mrs. Darkholm had come out for blood.

Rogue squenched up her nose, wishing she didn't remember the whole incident at all. She'd never forgiven him.

"You girls tell each other everything?" Logan questioned, again glancing at Ororo.

"Usually," Rogue said.

"Not always," Ororo replied, giving Logan a pointed look.

"Scott and I were waiting till we got married to . . . you know . . . to do it," Jean said then giggled. "I sound like I'm eighteen again."

"Wish I were eighteen again," Betsy said then, under her breath, "and weighed seven stone."

"Y'all were the only other couple we thought would never break up, Betsy," Rogue said.

"Warren never forgave me," Betsy said sullenly as she looked across the way at her ex.

"Ever hear from Neal? Wasn't he going back to India after he finished with you – uh, I mean finished college?" Jean asked Betsy about the boy she'd messed around with behind Warren's back.

Betsy shrugged, annoyed that Jean had to twist the dagger in her heart, but she knew she deserved it with the way she'd flirted with Scott at prom. She'd flirted with everyone that night including too-short-for-her Logan. Maybe, she thought, that was the beginning of the end of her Warren.

"You know Warren's here with Paige Guthrie," Jean said, twisting deeper with cheerful vengeance.

" _Who_?" Betsy asked.

"Ah remember Sam Guthrie – tall, skinny, blond kid, she any relation?"

"Paige is Sam's sister," Jean said smugly.

"Whoa! Sam's sister? But she's just a kid!" Rogue cried.

Sam had been a freshman when they were seniors and they all remembered the naive, good hearted kid who looked up to Scott, Warren, T'Challa and Logan and the other football players while he kept the bench warm. Betsy wished Warren had been that naive. She wondered why men always wanted younger women. She wondered why she'd been such a flirt. She wasn't any more.

"Ah heard Warren wasn't serious about her though," Rogue said.

"How'd you hear that?" Jean asked.

"Bobby."

"I thought you weren't speaking to that guy!" Remy shrieked.

"When ah look _this_ good? Sugah, you oughta know me better 'n that!" Rogue said, proud of how she'd filled out.

"You do look good, darlin'," Logan noted with a sidelong glance at Ororo who continued to ignore him.

Remy seethed quietly. He knew the whole story about Rogue and Bobby's prom night and if it hadn't been for Rogue making him promise not to hurt Bobby he would've already taken him outside and punched him in the head for payback for what he'd done to Rogue back then.

"Don't be mad at Rogue, Remy, we women know if you can't kill them just rub their faces in how damn hot you look!" Jean said because she'd done exactly that, sauntered up to Scott, knowing her too short, too tight, bright, red dress made her look too damn hot. She'd said hello as nonchalantly as if she could care less that his wife was standing next to him. And yes, Scott's look of jaw dropped surprise and outright admiration-slash lust had been just what she'd been hoping for. She was sure he still loved her.

"I never imagined Warren would shag someone so bloody young! She can't be out of high school!" Betsy exclaimed.

"But didn't y'all hear? One more month and she'll be a high school graduate!" Rogue said with a roll of her eyes.

Remy said nothing. He thought there wasn't anything wrong with Warren wanting to date a cute, little girl as long as she was of legal age. He wasn't going to say that where Rogue could hear him and he knew Rogue could find anything out so he wasn't going to say it out loud ever.

"That's just sodding disgusting!" Betsy scoffed.

"Why, when he's probably just ten or eleven years older than her?" Logan asked.

"She probably isn't old enough to drink!" Betsy complained.

"Try to not think 'bout it, Betts," Remy advised.

"Oh, that's a brilliant idea, Remy, just a wonderful plan, mate," Betsy said snarkily. "But it's kind of hard to do that seeing as this is _Warren's_ penthouse an' _he's_ sponsoring our bloody reunion!"

"Ya reap what ya sow," Logan told her bluntly. He was a little annoyed with the girls. Ororo kept ignoring him, the others kept bitching and he was pissed that their reunion hadn't been in Manhattan where they'd gone to school, where he'd be able to at least follow Ororo home or get an idea where she lived, in a so not stalkerish way mind you. But Warren loved baseball and Logan was pretty sure he owned some part of the Rookies as Logan had taken to calling the Rockies. Logan was sure they were going to be seven games in the hole after their double header, if they didn't get rained out again. Nothing seemed to be working out in Colorado.

"Neal was a horrible mistake," Betsy admitted.

"You can add Scott to that list!" Jean fumed.

"I was just flirting with Scott, Jean nothing else! Get over it, love! He didn't leave you for _me_!"

"What's Scott doing now? I heard he had some harebrained get rich scheme that tanked," Logan said, changing the subject, hoping to alleviate Jean's mood.

"All of his businesses fail!" she said, brightly. "I imagine they're living off of _her_ money. He's trying to start another business, games and things, no electronics. It isn't going to work. Who wants to pay money to go into a little shop and play checkers or monopoly or – what are those stupid little cars he loved so much when we were kids, Ororo?"

"Slot cars," Ororo said. She'd raced Scott a lot. It had been fun though she didn't think she'd want to play with slot cars now. Jean had never cared to play with any of the hot wheels, train sets or rockets Scott and his younger brother Alex had. But Ororo had loved going over there to play.

"Yeah, thanks – stupid, little cars going around and around on a track. Who in their right minds would pay money to do that?"

Remy and Logan looked at each other, both thinking it sounded like fun but then they both knew they could just buy their own slot cars and as they thought this they both decided they just might. And why not? Scott's idea was just what a lot of grown men and a lot of boys might like _if_ they had the time and money and weren't addicted to video games.

"You're right, it won't work," Remy murmured as he considered that most boys and young men weren't apt to leave the confines of their comfortable bedrooms to race cars in a shop any more than many older men were going to leave the comfy confines of their parent's basements to play board games and slot cars.

"Yeah, not gonna work in this day an' age," Logan muttered as he came to the same realization as he wondered how long before the latest update to his favorite video game would take to come out.

"Am I right?" Jean said with a smile, glad they both agreed with her. "But he just keeps coming up with these lame ideas. You'd think _she_ could kind of guide him somehow, use her instincts like me, you know? But I guess she's just as dumb as him. It's a good thing she's loaded. I could almost feel sorry for him."

They all knew Scott and his brother hadn't been able to go to college. Their father, a widower, had died soon after their prom, Scott's not Alex's. Mr. Summers hadn't told anyone that the space firm he owned was in bankruptcy. Scott never really recovered from it, the loss of his father, their house, the family business, having to support Alex, moving to New Jersey just to survive. Jean hadn't been able to console him no matter what she'd done. He'd felt utterly humiliated. Then Emma had lured him with promises of starting a coffee shop together. And that had been the complete end of Jean and Scott.

Ororo set her empty champagne glass down on a nearby table and started to cross the patio.

"Going potty?" Jean asked, intending to go along.

"No, maybe I'll get something to eat."

"Those kids looked so cute all dressed up. Remy, sugah, maybe we should do a piece about all the teen stars goin' ta their prom. Ah wonder if it's too late," Rogue said. She and Remy ran a popular gossip blog and magazine.

"Remy glad dose days are over."

"I thought you an' Ororo were pretty serious back then," Rogue probed.

"You know she never gave it up – too frustrating. Waiting for her prince ta come along which wasn't me. An' den when she get her prince he break her heart."

"Rich, snobby, royalty," Jean grumbled.

Logan was surprised by Remy's and Jean's comments even though he knew T'Challa was a real live African prince. He'd never thought Ororo was anything like other girls. The girls he'd grown up with had yearned to marry the Prince of Wales or his brother. Was that why she'd liked T? He watched her now as she surveyed the large food selection.

"You talkin' 'bout all of us den, Jeannie? Cause we were all rich, snobby kids," Remy remarked. They all had parents well off enough to send them to private school with king's and dignitaries sons and daughters, like T and Betsy, although Betsy's father, Sir James, wasn't as wealthy as he had once been.

Jean laughed and said, "We were so young and dumb. We had so much money; we thought we could get away with anything."

"Right, and not get caught – bloody full of ourselves," Betsy agreed, knowing that that was exactly how she used to be. She was glad she'd changed. She'd been a model for a few years, as vain as ever, but now worked as a social worker in the Bronx trying to help people.

"We really did think we could do anything," Rogue sighed.

"Some us did too," Logan said, getting up and setting his untouched Blue Moon ale down. He hated Blue Moon ale.

"You leavin', _homme_ or goin' potty? If you goin' potty den Remy'll go wid you," Remy joked and ignored Jean's angry glare. But Logan shook his head, nodded in the direction of the food.

"You should put somethin' in that stomach of yours, Jean sugah," Rogue said.

"Oh bloody hell, look who just came in – Hank! And look who he's with!" Betsy exclaimed.

Logan took off as they started gossiping about what they'd heard about Hank's divorce. But none of them knew the green haired woman on his arm, not even Rogue or Remy.

"Why're ya tryin' ta run from me, darlin'?" Logan panted as he stopped beside Ororo who thought she'd made it to the lobby without anyone suspecting she was leaving. She forgot Logan had been watching her every move. He'd seen her slip pass the food and into the hallway off the patio. He'd a hunch she was headed out so he'd hurried after her only he'd missed the elevator, knew he'd miss her if he waited for the next one, so he'd raced down the short hall to the exit sign, dashed down six flights of stairs, down the hallway, and had just barely caught her as she reached for the door.

"Not as young as I used ta be," he said, smiling self-consciously.

They heard a roaring cheer from the Sand Lot Brewery across the street. A major fight was being broadcast on Pay-per-view, the fight of the century supposedly. Logan had bet on the underdog even though he didn't usually bet.

"I can't handle all this nostalgia," Ororo explained.

"Yeah, well . . ."

She looked out at the quiet street and wondered that there wasn't more cheering.

"Who do you think will win?" she asked. She preferred UFC fights and didn't care who won a boxing match.

"I'd like to think the guy I'm bettin' on. I always go for the underdog."

She studied him. He was so short, but he was stocky and solid too. She'd always thought of him as an underdog but he was insistent, determined. His parents were dead and his grandfather had supported him throughout high school but Logan had wanted independence so he'd joined the army, become a ranger when a position opened while he was in boot camp. He'd made sergeant and even trained Marines and foreigners in chemical warfare in the States and Germany and Iraq. After the army he'd started his own security company and was now CEO of a pretty successful business. She'd learned all this on Facebook.

No, she decided, he might've been the underdog once but now s _he_ was the underdog, doing freelance work that everyone thought sounded so artsy and daring. But she was barely surviving. She wasn't going to be homeless anytime soon but she was living off her Deferred Compensation Plan, having left her job with the state of New York. She had a sizeable cushion but only time would tell if she'd made the right decision. Manhattan was an expensive place to live.

"I had a good time at the prom – with you, being with you," Logan said.

She looked away. The prom hadn't been anything like she'd imagined it would be. T should have taken her. She'd been deeply in love with T or thought she had been or that she should've been. Prom just brought out horrible memories of betrayal. She looked down suddenly as Logan took her hand in his. Logan brought out memories that were best left alone.

"Didn't you?" he asked softly. He looked wistful, even hopeful.

"You took my virginity. It hurt," she blurted out, pulling her hand free, sounding like the eighteen year old she'd been that night.

"You begged for more," he retorted, hurt by her reaction.

"I didn't!"

"Yeah, you did!"

She frowned. He was adamant and angry. He had every right to be too. She _had_ begged for more. She suddenly laughed. He laughed too; glad to see she hadn't forgotten. They both remembered.

The room, dark, TV on, no sound, quiet reigned. They sat, apprehensive yet turning, eyes meeting, electric currents flowing between them, eyes darting futilely away, hands aching, loins burning. Fire consumed them. Soft, warm, moist lips met, slow, feeling, lingering. So soft, so sensitive, so knowing, trailing down, down. Buttons undone, hands everywhere, sure, tentative. Softness, hardness, passion consuming, lust overwhelming. There was desperation in their taking of each other.

Room spinning, scene changing, TV off, music playing. They fell, hard, bed so soft, hands on fire, lips soft, warm, moist, minds lost. Clothes ripped, thrown aside, bed squeaking, squeaking, squeaking. Bodies pressed together, clinging, grasping, nails digging. Crying, moaning, laughing, hot, sweating, burning.

"Not yet, not yet," he'd teased her, taunted her, knowing her, prolonging.

So hot, so hot. Lifting, moving, so close. Wanting, wanting. Foreplay so intense – the yearning, the fear, desire overtaking. Then he took her, so welcomed, so shocking, so good. Rising, melding, molded as one, taking and giving, sensuous and loving. There was love in their taking of each other.

T's betrayal had hurt less after that unexpected passionate, desire filled night of need and satisfaction.

She'd thought of Logan for days after, the memory of what they'd done. She thought she'd fallen in love, but how could that be when she'd only just been in love with T? She was confused and afraid. She wrote love sick poems about Logan, long e-mails trying to explain how she felt. She never sent them. She still had them hidden away. And after a month he was gone and shortly after she started her new life in a new country. Logan had helped her find a way to move on after T. But in return, though she didn't know it, she had ruined Logan's life.

"Prom night was . . ." She paused, unsure, even now, how to explain all she'd felt, still felt.

"The best night of my life," Logan finished for her.

She smiled, agreed. "Yeah." It was for her too. "I've never forgotten that night . . . or you."

"Then why'd you disappear? Why didn't you answer me when I kept trying to get in touch with you?"

"I . . . I didn't know what to tell you or what to do or how to act. And then I found out I was pregnant! I was terrified!"

"What? You were pregnant? With _my_ kid?"

"Well, it wouldn't have been anyone else's! I mean we didn't use anything. It was my first time – _times_ I guess I should say." She shrugged then said, "That's what happens." And how had it!

Her father had put her in the hospital for the abortion. She'd thought he was going to kill her. The abortion nearly killed _her_. She'd wanted so desperately to keep it. It would've been beautiful, would've looked like her and Logan. But neither of them could've lived the life they'd wanted if she'd told him, kept the child. But she'd never gotten over it; it was always with her in the back of her consciousness, the little baby, the guilt, the regret.

"Why didn't you tell me? You didn't have to get an abortion! I would've . . . I mean we could've . . . I would've done something, _anything_ to take care of you – of both of you! I loved you, Ro!"

"You barely knew me, Logan! We barely hung out for two months before prom!"

"I've known you since we were freshmen in high school, Ororo! I would've done what I needed to do – probably still join the Army yeah, but I'da taken you with me, taken care of you an' the baby after boot camp!"

"You barely spoke to me before you asked me to the prom, Logan!"

"You were always with Jean or T or the others!" He grabbed her hand. It was cold and clammy now. "I would've done anything for you, Ororo!"

She actually felt worse than when she'd arrived and noticed Logan was there. His Facebook page said he wasn't going to attend. Now she saw it had been a ruse he'd devised to finally waylay her. She couldn't understand why he couldn't see that what happened prom night was best forgotten. She hadn't meant to hurt him but sneaking him into her room had initially been all about vengeance for her. She'd thought to hurt T but instead she'd lost herself. And afterward she'd been confused and ashamed and scared to death so she never saw Logan again, never took his calls, never replied to his texts or e-mails and she'd changed her Facebook profile so it was completely private and she unfriended him, one of the hardest things she'd ever had to make herself do.

"It was like . . . like spontaneous combustion, with no way to explain it," she murmured, furtively trying to explain what had happened to her because it should _never_ have happened at all.

But he understood. It had been a spontaneous, out of control, crazy, desire fulfilled rush with no thought of consequences, no thought of anything but touching, feeling, needing, wanting, having her! His crush on her had grown each year and then when he'd gotten to know her, took her to the prom, made love to her like he'd always dreamed of, she'd been everything he'd thought she'd be and she'd become everything to him! All those times waiting with secret anticipation to see her, in class, the hallways, coming down the stairs with her long legs and those short skirts she always wore had just made the real thing perfect. After he'd asked her out and she'd said yes the waiting had intensified, even just to hear her voice on the phone. Then, making love to her, he'd been captured by her completely. He'd worshiped Ororo.

She'd been honest and beautiful and she liked him enough to not only go to say she'd go to prom with him but to talk to him, hang out with him. She spent so much time with him after school and over the weekends that he'd started to think she was getting over T and starting to like him instead. He hadn't tried anything with her either, didn't even know how to go about asking her for anything more than just going to prom and the senior picnic and that had been hard enough. She'd been his buddy's girl! But he'd been young and crazy in love and thoughts of enlisting in the army and then coming back on leave and marrying her had been marching through his head after prom night. He'd decided he was going to make her his somehow. His future had been _her_. But after prom she hadn't wanted anything to do with him. He still hadn't recovered from that. It still hurt.

Now her soft confession of what had happened, the inescapable truth, made him draw closer to her, still clutching her hand, _his_ hands now cold and clammy. He felt exactly how he always felt when he thought of her, when he'd been with her, euphoric but full of dread, so glad to be with her but never sure if it would last. But now, hope and elation were soaring. And as he wondered if everything he'd wanted since he was a freshman in high school could come true, or if this was all too good to be true, Ororo looked up in shock. The sound startled him too, a loud clacking noise, and Logan saw a security officer, standing outside and smoking, had unlocked the lobby door for a man who held an invitation in his hand.

"Hey, Ororo!" T said as he came in, looking at her and then at Logan.

T'Challa's pretty wife came in behind him but Logan held onto Ororo's hand all the tighter. He wasn't letting her go.

Ororo's stomach heaved horribly. But as she looked at T what she saw was just a man. He was still handsome, aging just as well as she was, but he didn't look anything like she remembered. Or was it simply that she didn't see him as anything special anymore?

"Uh, Logan, 'S up?" T said.

"Hey."

"You two here together?" T asked, staring hard at Ororo and Logan's joined hands.

Ororo and Logan followed his gaze then looked at each other and they both smiled.

"Why wouldn't I be with the first man I ever made love to?" Ororo said, squeezing Logan's hand. But there was no thought of vengeance, no need for vengeance.

"What? She let _you_ and not me . . . !" T sputtered, not knowing what to say, hardly believing her.

"Ro an' me had a real good prom," Logan said with a smug grin.

"Uh . . ." T's mouth seemed unable to close.

"Well, _we're_ still together too!" Monica said, beaming. "I got pregnant with little T.J. prom night. Remember prom, baby? My mother gave me all kinds of hell when I got back so late." Monica laughed as she remembered how angry her mother had been. Now her mother was a plump, happy grandmother of a little prince and not too unhappy about living in a palace although she never stopped complaining about living in a foreign country. And Monica was the queen she'd always wanted to be as a little girl now that T had become king of Wakanda after his father's assassination. Ororo had never envied her that.

"You, uh, going up, Ororo?" T asked.

Logan waited for Ororo's decision. She didn't look at T but smiled at Logan again, thankful that he'd stuck by her. And with her hand in his and under her smile Logan felt as if the Ororo he'd known over ten years ago was back, that she trusted him just like then, even needed him just like then, and suddenly he felt as if he could do anything. And he wanted to do anything for her, protect her, take care of her, make everything right in her world.

"I think, if Ro's okay with it, we're gonna leave," he said. And still holding onto her he pushed the door open and held it for her, waiting. Hoping. Dying a little inside from fear – would she come with him? But she immediately stepped out into the night, still clutching his hand.

A few cars passed by on the street but they were the only people outside just then. They went down the steps then stopped on the sidewalk. He thought she was hesitant. She felt excited and happy, as if she could do anything in that moment as long as she was with him. She hadn't felt that way in ages, but where to start, what to do? Being afraid and unsure had gotten her nowhere before. Letting his hand go she turned into him and just like prom night they came together, immediately searching for the other's lips, their kiss searing, sealing.

* * *

"You mean Logan was Ro's first?" Rogue exclaimed as she chatted up Monica who was smiling happily now that she knew her husband had told her the truth; that he'd never slept with Ororo. "Oh, wait till ah tell my husband! Ah can't believe she never told me! Ah guess that explains why they left t'gether. Man, ah can't believe it! Ah gotta find Remy! Ah'll see ya later, Monica." Rogue skipped off excitedly.

"What?" Remy cried when Rogue told him. He was shocked, not sure how to digest the fact that Ororo had chosen Logan over him even though he'd been over Ororo for almost nine years now. When he'd met Rogue that had been it for him, he'd immediately known he was going to marry her.

"That's kind of weird," Jean said as she reached for another drink.

"No it's not, it's romantic," Betsy said then sighed, looking at Warren who was sipping a martini and just happened to be watching her a that moment.

Rogue nudged Betsy. "Go on, say hi to him. Paige is cryin' on her phone to mommy or someone. Remy heard her in the kitchen just a minute ago."

"She said somet'ing like," and here Remy's deep resonate voice changed into a high pitched imitation of a girls voice, "he's payin' more attention ta his guests 'n me!"

Rogue laughed but Betsy took a deep breath then heeded her friend's advice.

"I wish a semi-truck would run over Scott when he's out running one day, like in that movie, Final Destination," Jean muttered.

"Girl, you need to let all that anger go!" Rogue muttered back.

"I don't remember anyone getting hit like dat," Remy commented.

"Come on, help me get some food inta her, sugah."

Outside Logan was still kissing Ororo. And when a few teenagers started heading back to their cars, talking quietly, some laughing, Logan and Ororo sighed. They held each other as they watched the kids. Some of the girls wobbled on too high heels, shivering, one was bold enough to step out of those too high heels and carry them. The boys, some with shirttails out, some with t-shirts slung over their shoulders as if they'd won some memento, joking with each other, playing around, but most silent.

Ororo wondered why so few of the couples were holding hands, why only one boy put his jacket over his date's shoulders. Logan imagined the boys were nervous maybe, or eager for the rest of the night to begin. Ororo wondered if their prom night had been good so far; if they were making treasured memories or would tonight bring broken dreams, broken promises, broken hearts. She wondered if they knew what love was. _She_ hadn't. And yet, she suddenly realized just maybe she had.

"Don't ever run from me again," Logan said.

"No, I won't," she said, promising herself that she wouldn't.

"Don't play with me, Ro."

"I'm not. I won't. I've always been honest with you."

"You never told me about our kid."

"I told you I didn't know what to do! I'm sorry, Logan. I know I didn't handle things right. I don't know how to make you understand. I didn't want to have an abortion but my mother would've killed me. She still doesn't know." Ororo moved away from Logan, angry and a little hurt. She was sorry for how she'd treated him but she didn't want to keep explaining, keep saying she was sorry.

Ororo sighed, then out of the blue asked, "Do you think someone can fall in love with someone in just a few months?"

Logan wasn't sure if she was talking about him or T.

"I do, Logan. I _did._ The way you made love to me was a mind blowing bonus and I don't mean that as a pun, so don't laugh," she said though she laughed.

She remembered typing away on her computer, filling her journal, going on and on about how handsome Logan was, how he really wasn't that short, how attracted she was by his manner, the loving smile he had, the soft look in his eyes when he spoke, saying things no one had ever said to her before. She'd admired that he knew what he wanted. But mostly she was thrilled that he seemed to know her.

In those few months she'd probably spent more time with him than she had with T all that school year. They'd nearly been inseparable, usually meeting at her house since her parents were often out of town. She hadn't told anyone but Jean about what they did or really didn't do. One day they'd spent ten hours together and he never touched her, never made a move. She'd thought it was such a strange way to go about a budding romance but she was excited and hopeful, waiting for the romance to bloom. But it hadn't.

He'd been hesitant to touch her, never kissed her. Once he'd picked her up in his arms when he'd told her he could carry her easily. She'd insisted she was too heavy, and he'd just scooped her into his arms. It had been thrilling to be in his strong arms, feeling his biceps, laughing, telling him to put her down. That was as physically close as he'd ever gotten till prom. He'd respected her and that had made her happy in a kind of new, bashful way. And sometimes at school when she passed him in the hall all she could do was just smile at him because she'd felt unsure-shy-can't-help-myself love for him and she hadn't understood that or him.

"I loved being with you and talking to you but I thought I was falling in love with you and I was too afraid to say anything when all you did was just stare at me a lot, never telling me how you felt. I thought something was wrong. You took me to the class picnic, we went riding around and you came over nearly every day and we'd talk and talk – we had so much fun but except for prom, I mean, I didn't have a clue if you liked me like I liked you. And then I didn't want to take the chance of repeating what T took me through. And you were leaving for the service in little more than a month and of course I was on my way to England."

"You acted like you didn't even know me after prom!"

"Well, I couldn't read your mind any more than you could read mine!"

"Why couldn't you have just told me what was going on?"

Ororo knew he'd kept trying to reach her online for years. She hadn't known how to respond and it just got harder and harder over the years. She couldn't see why he couldn't just leave it alone. She didn't know he'd always hoped that she'd respond, just to say hi. All he'd wanted was to know that she remembered him – remembered _them_.

"I was seventeen. I didn't know how to tell a boy who I'd slept with for the first time that I was starting to like him more than I thought I should when you never said anything about liking _me_! I was supposed to be in love with T forever and you two were friends and you and me were both leaving. I wish I'd acted differently but I didn't because I couldn't. I never meant to hurt you. I just wanted to forget it ever happened."

"You wanted to forget we were together?"

"It wasn't that I wanted to forget that so much. It was just too painful, what T did to me, thinking I was in love with you, you never saying anything, being pregnant, the abortion – leaving for college with all my dreams about T and _you_ crushed . . ."

He tried to calm down, tried to understand but he kept thinking everything was all her fault and how she'd treated him like he was nothing. He would've been there for her if she'd just told him. But then he thought how angry his grandfather would've been if he'd told him he'd gotten a girl pregnant and that he wanted to marry her. He couldn't imagine telling his grandfather that. It had been hard enough trying to make him understand that he no longer wanted his money or his help anymore, that he didn't want to become an officer that he just wanted to enlist. His grandfather had disowned him over that.

He saw then how hard it must've been for her with no support. And ultimately Logan knew it was his fault. He hadn't been prepared that night. He hadn't expected to make love to her, hadn't even hoped for anything like that. But she'd invited him in and, well it just happened, this rush of feelings, wanting her so badly, all the accumulated desire he'd had for her over the years. He didn't have condoms, hadn't thought about them. That was his fault. Getting her pregnant, that was his fault. He should've thought, should've . . . but it wasn't supposed to happen.

"Alright, let's just forget the past," he said.

She quickly nodded in agreement.

"Right now all I want to know is do you want to be with me?"

Ororo didn't have to think about it. She bobbed her head up and down.

"Then we're gonna make this work because I'm not letting you go this time," he said.

She rested her head against his. She felt the same attraction, the same power he had over her when they were so young. If only it could be this simple, she thought. This man still loved her just as she was still drawn to him. Was that love? Would it stand the test of time?

"We're going to make this work," she whispered.

* * *

Ororo and Logan walked out onto the terrace of Warren's suite at the MGM hotel in Las Vegas, Nevada where he was hosting their high school's twentieth reunion. They were immediately greeted by their friends. Ororo felt a little self-conscious because it was late and she was sure they were the last to arrive.

"Hey, Ororo, man, you look great! Hey, what's up, man? Last time you were the first to get here!" Warren laughed because ten years ago Logan had bombarded him with questions about Ororo before she'd arrived for that reunion. He'd been pretty sure Logan had it bad for her. But Logan didn't mind the teasing. He had his arm securely around his wife's waist.

"Thank God we don't have to watch prom kids like we did last time since we're way up here," Jean said, looking out at the beautiful night view, a city of lights busy below. "You think kids go to prom on the strip? That would be . . . I don't know, weird – you think?"

"Or fun," Remy said.

"You would say that," Rogue said, but he knew they both loved Vegas.

They were in Las Vegas specifically at Jean's request. She'd wanted to be anywhere they wouldn't have to see sappy, stupid kids going to their prom, her words, and Warren had obliged after Betsy, Rogue and Ororo had all pleaded her case.

"Ro told me we'd be late but she simply couldn't resist me," Logan told Warren, grinning.

"You liar!" Ororo laughed. It had been Logan who'd insisted on a little reenactment of their prom night. But it had been worth it as always.

"Well, it's good ta see y'all're still happy an' still t'gether, like Remy an' me," Rogue said.

"Yeah, that we are," Logan said and Ororo smiled at him.

"And me and Warren," Betsy added, thankful that Warren had finally given in and taken her back after their years apart. Warren put his arm around her and everyone hoped they could stay as happy as they seemed to be. The women were pretty sure Betsy had learned her lesson and wasn't going to mess up again.

"Scott deserves to rot in hell."

Even if Jean had been hiding under a table and they couldn't see her or recognize her voice everyone there knew by now that it could only be Jean slurring vengeful curses at her first love.

"After he's trampled by a herd of elephants, an' you could be ridin' the lead one," Rogue suggested, as supportive as usual. She was hoping Jean would stop drinking and was making sure Remy didn't bring her anything else.

"I like that idea, Rogue!" Jean squealed gleefully then, her mood souring again, she muttered, "Slimy Summers!"

Remy snorted. He'd noticed neither Scott nor Emma had shown. He'd heard they were going through a rough patch. He and Rogue hadn't been able to find out more than that but he'd decided not to tell Jean. He didn't want to get her hopes up, besides something told him that she already knew.

They didn't know it but everything had changed for Jean. She'd waited and waited for Scott to see the truth, that they were meant to be together, and then, one day out of the blue, she'd heard his voice on her cell phone. She tried not to remember the night he'd called, how they'd arranged to see each other, how nervous she'd been while waiting for him to come over, how much she'd wanted to hate him, how much she'd still wanted him, how he'd told her things weren't working out with Emma, how he missed _her_ , that _she_ alone understood him, that she was his first love, and that he still loved her, that he would always love her.

But he'd never said he was going to leave Emma, get a divorce, never said it was a mistake marrying Emma like Jean knew he knew it was. After months of meeting secretly she'd finally forced herself to stop seeing him. It was the hardest thing she'd ever had to do. She still loved him. How could love hurt so cruelly?

Ororo wrapped an arm around Jean. She knew all about the odd affair that wasn't exactly an affair, more mental than physical. Did you ever forget your first love, she wondered as Jean smiled at her.

Later as everyone held their partner, dancing to a tune that was twenty years old, Ororo decided that you didn't forget your first love, you just hopefully moved on. She had. She hoped Jean would although maybe not with their old principal, Professor Xavier, whom she was dancing with just then, and looking extremely comfortable in his arms. That would be totally weird and unexpected but love was unpredictable at best.

Logan noticed T'Challa had been watching Ororo ever since they'd arrived. Monica was looking just as good as she was last time, just a little heavier, but Logan knew there was something special about Ororo and he couldn't blame T. You didn't forget a woman like Ororo. He held onto her tighter as he thought this, thankful that she'd kept her word and they'd made it work. Ororo never once noticed T'Challa watching her because what was it to her when she was with the man she loved?

"You know, darlin' I wish I'd met you before T met you," Logan said, thinking of all that wasted time

"But hasn't it been better for the waiting, darling?" she asked, knowing it had been and that after waiting so long neither of them would ever chance losing what they had. And that was love.

 **~Finis~**

* * *

 **A/N –** A lot of elements for this story were taken from my various prom experiences that I hope make the story ring a little truly. Oddly, maybe, I seldom think of my proms but now I wonder if others do, if you have good memories. I hope you do.


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